When Words Get In The Way
by ilovetvalot
Summary: When David Rossi inadvertently hurts Penelope Garcia, can this relationship be saved? TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Just a couple of notes today -**

**Friends, don't forget to vote in "The Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards" headquartered at "Chit Chat on Author's corner" forum (it can also be reached thru my profile page or tonnie2001969 profile page if you choose). We've had a phenomenal response so far, but we want each one of you to be heard thru your vote. Voting ends on November 30th and details can be found at the forum. Please everyone, let your voice be heard and come choose your favorite nominees and recognize them.**

**New interviews are posted on "Chit Chat" with our very talented co-authors: MissdaVinci77, ChristyKateBrewster, Hopeless-Romantic-Daydreamer, Luna Argenta and jungleanimal. Check them as well as several of our other nominees out. We'll be adding more as we draw closer to the end of the awards!**

**Thanks to everyone that continues to read, review alert and favorite...we truly appreciate each one of you!**

* * *

**When Words Get In The Way**

**Chapter One**

There were times when a guy just didn't have time to duck.

And as David Rossi saw the fist flying toward his nose, he instinctively knew he'd reached one of those pivotal moments in his life. Too bad he couldn't appreciate the irony of the situation…he was usually the guy throwing the first punch, wasn't he?

"You son of a bitch!" Derek Morgan shouted, striking with an economy of motion, his balled fist connecting soundly with Rossi's nose. "Fat? You called Baby Girl FAT!"

Stumbling backward under the impact of the oncoming blow, Dave groaned as he felt the telltale snap echo in his ears. Yep, definitely broken, he thought to himself as he raised an automatic hand to his nose. "Shit!" he groaned as blood flowed freely over his cupped hand, a sheer indication of yet another injury his aging body would have to endure. "What the HELL, Morgan?" he growled, lifting his head to glare at the furious black man facing him. Turning his head slightly to look at Hotch, who was no filling the doorway to his office, he asked, aggrieved, "Are you going to actually DO anything over there, Aaron?"

"That depends on if you really said what he says that you said," Hotch replied evenly as he nodded toward Derek Morgan, the younger man still virtually vibrating with barely contained rage.

Reaching for the handkerchief he'd shoved in his jeans this morning, Dave shook his head as he pressed the soft fabric to his flowing nose. "I don't even know what the hell he's talking about," Dave barked, his terse words muffled slightly.

"Bullshit," Derek countered, taking another threatening step toward the elder man. "Mama is in her office crying her eyes out because this asshole called her fat, man," Derek explained over his shoulder, outrage filling his already tight voice.

"I never!" Dave yelped, his eyes widening as he processed the fact that the woman he'd been quietly, privately seeing for the last four weeks was in tears, allegedly because of something he'd said...something he'd NEVER have said. Even if she'd been his worst enemy, there were lines in the sand a man never crossed. Three marriages had taught him that lesson well. And weight was one of those sensitive issues a man stayed away from if he valued his balls...or, evidently, his nose.

"Are you calling Garcia a liar?" Derek asked, returning his gaze to the older man, his eyes narrowing dangerously as his fist clenched at his side.

"No!" Rossi retorted, "I'm not. What I am saying is that something I HAVE said has obviously been misconstrued or misunderstood and I'm going to get to the bottom of it," he added, taking a step around his desk toward the door of his office, his intent to find Penelope and put an end to this foolishness. Damn it, she knew him better than that!

"I don't think so," Derek growled, stepping in front of the senior profiler, "You've done enough."

"Derek, I like you, son. I really do," Dave said, keeping his voice low and even despite his growing anger. "But if you even think of stepping between Penelope and me, I'm going to put you down like a rabid dog."

Chin lifting defiantly, Derek smiled without humor, his white teeth gleaming. "Any time you're ready, Old Man," he invited, lifting his arms wide.

"That's enough," Hotch intervened firmly, stepping between the two men. "Morgan, I think Dave at least deserves to hear his crime from the woman in question, don't you?" he asked his colleague softly, his dark eyes flicking from man to man.

"I swear to God, Hotch, if he makes things any worse...," Morgan threatened fiercely.

"Look, if I actually did what she thinks I did, I'll give you permission to kick my ass," Dave offered impatiently, taking another step toward the door. "But, I didn't!"

Looking at Dave's concerned face still dripping with bright red blood, Hotch nodded. "Go," he ordered softly.

And without a backward glance, David Rossi went. Quickly.

**/***/**

Reaching Penelope Garcia's closed office door, Dave paused to catch his breath, exertion and swelling already making their presence known. Already, he could hear the loud man-hating music emanating from her lair. Definitely not a good sign for him. Over the past month he'd learned a few vital things about the woman inside the room in front of him.

One was that the music of Sheryl Crow spelled bad things for someone. And today, that unfortunate person was him.

To knock or not to knock, that was the question, Dave thought, glaring at the closed door. On one hand, he knew that Garcia valued her privacy and expected the courtesy of a knock. And since he'd apparently managed to piss her off six ways from Sunday already for some unknown reason, pushing her any further might be his worst move. On the other hand, he might need the element of surprise if he wished to make his case. Otherwise, he didn't put it past her to barricade herself in there...or worse yet, attack him upon entrance.

Girding his loins and wiping his bloody nose once more, he opted for the sneak attack, pushing open the door and moving inside in one smooth motion. Luckily, she didn't hear him over the blast of the music, but he certainly saw her. Hunched in her computer chair, a tissue pressed to her eyes, her shoulders shook almost violently as she kept her back to him.

Heart twisting, he forgot about the pain in his nose and focused on her. Crying...he hated a crying woman. And to watch THIS woman cry...that was almost unbearable. Reaching out for the stereo beside him, he twisted the volume knob down abruptly, alerting her to another presence in the room.

Turning rapidly in her seat, Penelope Garcia's swollen, watery eyes narrowed dangerously. "YOU!" she hissed, jerking forward in her seat. "GET OUT!" she yelled, jabbing a azure tipped nail toward the door imperiously.

"We need to talk," Dave said softly, leveling her with a determined stare as he leaned against the closed door to her office. Dropping his hand to the door knob, he flipped the lock. "And neither one of us is leaving until we clear the air."

Jumping out of her seat, Penelope shook her head as she stomped her heel-clad foot against the linoleum. "I don't have a thing to say to you overinflated egomaniac! Get out, Judas!"

"Judas?" Dave echoed incredulously, arching one brow.

"Judas!" Penelope nodded, her bright hair bouncing against her shoulder. "Or do you prefer Benedict Arnold? Or Brutus? Or Aldrich Ames? They were ALL traitors, weren't they?"

"Kitten," Dave replied gently, "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," he said, taking a tentative step forward.

"Don't lie," Pen demanded, dropping her hands to her curvaceous hips as her eyes threw daggers at him. "And quit dripping blood all over my floor unless you want to grab a toothbrush and start scrubbing," she ordered, hurling a box of tissues at him.

Catching the cardboard missile mid-air, Dave shook his head dumbly. "What the hell is it that you think I've done, cara mia?" Dave asked gently. "Even a guilty man deserves the right to defend himself."

"You've lost every right you ever had and then some as far as I'm concerned, Agent Asshole," Pen retorted, her cheeks flushing, anger rising to the surface once again. "You know what you said!"

"No, Penelope, I really don't," Dave shook his head in denial, watching her face carefully. He could see the pain and betrayal shining brightly in her eyes, but for the life of him, he didn't know what he could possibly done to put it there. Hell, he'd only just convinced her to spend the night with him two nights ago...and everything had been amazing. Every single moment. Now, she was hurling Kleenex boxes at him and trying to kill him with looks that would shrivel even the bravest man. And crying...he couldn't ignore the tears. "Please, sweetheart, you've got to give me something to go on here."

"You called me FAT!" she shrieked, her whole body tensing as she hurled the accusation at him with the same accuracy as the earlier physical ammunition.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Just a couple of notes today -**

**Friends, don't forget to vote in "The Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards" headquartered at "Chit Chat on Author's corner" forum (it can also be reached thru my profile page or tonnie2001969 profile page if you choose). We've had a phenomenal response so far, but we want each one of you to be heard thru your vote. Voting ends on November 30th and details can be found at the forum. Please everyone, let your voice be heard and come choose your favorite nominees and recognize them.**

**New interviews are posted on "Chit Chat" with our very talented co-authors: MissdaVinci77, ChristyKateBrewster, Hopeless-Romantic-Daydreamer, Luna Argenta and jungleanimal. Check them as well as several of our other nominees out. We'll be adding more as we draw closer to the end of the awards!**

**Thanks to everyone that continues to read, review alert and favorite...we truly appreciate each one of you!**

* * *

**When Words Get In The Way**

**Chapter Two**

"I NEVER said that," Dave growled, feeling his own anger rising to the surface. So help him God, when he figured out who had put that absurd notion in her head, he was going to rip their fucking heads off. "First, it isn't true. AT ALL! Second, I love your body. And third, I'm not a fucking idiot!"

"That is debatable," Penelope spat, enunciating each word. "I heard you, David Rossi! With my own two ears," she continued, grabbing both her earlobes for emphasis.

"Then apparently you're deaf," Dave countered, more than willing to stand his ground when he knew he was innocent, "because those words never passed these lips," he said, jabbing a finger at his own mouth.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Penelope cried, wiping her eyes furiously as a new wave of tears rose unbidden. Darn it, she'd trusted him! Enough to share her body with him! And he'd called her...

"Tell me EXACTLY what I said, Kitten," Dave dared her. "AND who I said it to," he added, moving another step closer to her.

"Just stop," Penelope said, sidestepping him as she raised a hand and waved him away. "It's done, Dave. Finished. Finito. Kaput," she said, more than ready to pull the pin on their fledgling relationship before she faced another verbal assault meant to attack her self-esteem at the core.

Remembering the ecstasy...the completion he'd found in her arms...the passion he KNEW she'd felt, too, Dave shook his head. "Try again, Kitten," he said tightly, the muscle in his jaw flexing. "I don't give up that easy. We're going to work this out."

"No, we aren't. Not when I now know what you really think of me now," Penelope countered, her voice wavering.

"Let me put this in terms you can't misunderstand then," Dave growled, "I'm not taking one step out of this office until you tell me to my face what the hell I said."

"Fine!" Pen huffed. "I'll give you a clue then! You were walking down the hall with Chief Strauss this morning. Remember?" she sneered.

Blinking, Dave's eyebrows drew together as he stared at the woman that had somehow managed to wrap her unique personality around his heart. "Yeah," he grunted. "So?"

"So do you remember her asking you about the new woman in your life? How she'd heard you were dating again and that the woman wasn't your usual type?" Penelope asked, her breath hitching painfully in her chest.

"I do," Dave nodded solemnly, racking his brain for a remark that could possibly have been misconstrued. Coming up empty, he shrugged. "I didn't say anything bad. YOU told me that you didn't want our relationship to become public yet so I didn't tell her it was you..."

"But you did describe me, didn't you?" Penelope hissed, her fists clenching at her side as she fought the urge to blacken his eye to match his current bloody nose. Man, Derek really DID know how to score a helluva punch, she thought with grim satisfaction, reminding herself to congratulate her chocolate God of thunder.

"Honey, I don't know what you think you heard, but..."

"You called me voluptuous!" Pen shrieked, deciding to ignore her better angels and take that swing she so desperately wanted. Morgan wasn't getting ALL the fun!

"Ooomphhh!" Dave gasped, bending double as her fist buried in his solar plexus. He couldn't lie...it took a moment to regain his breath after her solidly delivered punch to his gut, but finally he was able to lift his head. "I called you...what?" Dave panted.

"You actually want me to repeat it?" Penelope asked, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Fine. Voluptuous! Voluptuous! VO-LUP-TU-OUS!" she yelled, all but jumping up and down.

He tried to fight it. He knew it was the absolute worst possible choice he could make at the time. It didn't matter. He couldn't fight the inevitable.

He burst out laughing.

"You're laughing?" she asked incredulously, a mixture of horror and indignation filling her voice. "You're REALLY laughing?" she seethed, her voice gaining in volume as she reached for a troll doll. "You really ARE the prize bastard everybody thinks you are!" she shouted, pelting him with her entire collection of bright haired troll dolls. Even Mimzy! Her favorite!

Control, Rossi, his mind chided as chuckles continued to erupt from his throat despite his better judgment. "You do realize that word is a compliment, right?" Dave choked, stepping to the side just as a puff of lime green polyester hair flew by his head.

"No," Pen shook her head firmly, her breasts heaving from exertion as the little maggot formerly known as her secret boyfriend ducked her flying computer mouse, "THAT is what men say to try to camouflage how they really feel," she clarified. "Voluptuous is just a fancy CODEWORD assholes use for FAT when they're trying to be POLITICALLY FREAKING CORRECT," she denied, reaching for another missile.

Grabbing her hand in a solid grip, Dave tugged the irate woman against his chest. "You're nuts!" he admonished. "In fact, you're certifiably insane if you believe any of that crap after the night we spent together! In case you missed it, Italian men, especially this one," he said, holding her tighter when she struggled in his arms, "happen to adore a woman's curves! And for this particular man, the only curves I'm particularly enamored of are YOURS, Kitten," he added more softly, staring down into her brilliant eyes.

Stilling in his warm embrace, Pen lifted wary eyes to meet his. "Really?" she whispered suspiciously, unwilling to let go of her anger if there was even the slightest chance he was only going to stomp on her heart once again.

"Really," Dave stressed, never blinking as he met her gaze. "It was a compliment, Penelope," he said softly, his hands smoothing over her hips and tugging her now pliant body against his. "There isn't an inch of your body that I don't desire and that's the God's honest truth."

"Oh," Penelope replied weakly, slowly becoming aware that she might possibly have made a teeny weeny, itsy bitsy mistake.

"Oh?" Dave snorted. "Morgan broke my nose, Kitten. You, yourself, may very well have inflicted internal damage on me and "oh" is all you have to say?"

"Uhmmm? Sorry?" she questioned feebly, offering him a faint smile as she let herself settle against him, remembering once again exactly why she had been drawn to the infuriating man to begin with.

"That's a start," Dave grunted, sliding his hands along her back.

"I'll make it up to you?" Pen tried, biting her lower lip as she stared up into his battered face, pressing the tip of one finger gently against his swollen cheek.

"Getting warmer," Dave rumbled, his lips drawing closer as he tucked her in perfect alignment against him.

"I won't doubt you again?" Pen queried softly as his lips grazed hers.

"Bingo," Dave whispered, gently claiming her soft lips.

And lucky for him and his nose, she didn't.

**The End**


End file.
